


The Shirt

by DSJWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Brotherly Love, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:28:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8875927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSJWinchester/pseuds/DSJWinchester
Summary: The first real fight Sam ever had with Jess was about Dean. It started with a shirt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written in 2007. I might add more to this story at some point I always intend for it to be longer  
> enjoy

Shirt

The first real fight Sam ever had with Jess was about Dean. At the time she was not aware it was about Dean. At that point in their relationship she didn't even know he had a brother. It started with a shirt. An ordinary well worn shirt. It looked old and comfortable the dorm was chilly and Sam was still not back from the library. She slips the shirt on over her tank top and climbed under the thick comforter on Sam’s bed. His roommate Andy was missing in action she doesn't mind Andy but his snores keep her awake. She was mostly asleep when Sam got back, the light woke her up. She sat up in bed still half asleep and greeted him with a smile. He looked up from his book started to smile until his eyes caught sight of the shirt his face froze the book tumbled from his slack hands. "Where did you find that shirt?"  
"Hi Sam it’s nice to see you too.”  
"Answer my question."  
She climbs out of bed arms folded over the shirt. “In you dresser with all the other shirts. You said I could borrow you shirts."  
He squeezed his eyes shut when he spoke his voice was the coldest she had ever heard it. “Take it off."  
"Why." She was beyond curious. Sam was a sweet guy. Really old fashion in the way he treated her. Gave her nothing but smiles kisses and respect. She felt safe with him, had never seen him this distant and cold.  
"Take it off."  
He doesn’t say anymore just turns his back on her. She can tell from the set of his shoulder he’s holding something back. She yanked the shirt over her head and hurled it at his turned back.   
“There’s you’re fucking shirt. Are you going to tell me what all the hissy fit drama is about?"  
He doesn’t look at her doesn’t even move just breaths. "You had no right."  
"It’s a fucking shirt Sam."  
He sucked in a deep breath reached down and picked the shirt up off the floor cradling it in his arms like it was something special. He leaves the room shoulders slump, face broken half way to tears. Jess didn’t understand. Sam was a sweet guy sensitive in the right ways but not a man prone to tears over a shirt. She wouldn't understand for another 3 years.  
Sam doesn't come back that night. When he gets in the next morning the shirt is tucked in his back pocket just out of view. He comes bearing lattes and apologies. His smile is sincere and he’s extra sweet. Jessica sees no reason not to forgive him. It takes a few months for her to forget about the shirt. 

She doesn't see it again for 2 years. By then Sam had let it drop that he had an older brother out there somewhere. She never got a name or a location but the look in his eyes when he spoke about him brought back the memory of the shirt and his broken face as he left the room. She spends the next week trying to find it. She finally finds it tucked under his pillow. An old gray shirt with a twisted band name on the front and tour dates on the back. There is a faded purple star next to one of the dates, San Fran 1999. She knows that must mean something. She folds the shirt and returns it to its hiding place.   
She takes occasionally looks at the shirt over the next year and a half. It’s not always under the pillow sometimes it’s buried at the bottom of his suitcase. Other times its tucked up with his books at the top of the closet he never really used or its in the dresser with the rest of the shirts.  
She doesn’t understand the meaning of the shirt until she met Him.  
Dean breezes into their apartment one day towards the end of their final year at Stanford. They were spending a quiet Saturday afternoon at home. An old football game on TV Jessica was snuggled under Sam’s arm, a book open and unread in her lap. He walked right into the living room a big smile on a handsome face. He gave Jess the once over a wink and a dirty smirk. He ignores the shell shocked look on Sam face just spoke Sammy’s name like he’d came back after stepping out for a beer not like he’d been missing for going on 4 years. Sam was up off the couch in between one blink and next. He reached for Dean pulled him in and fell around him. Dean held him up. They clung to each other for a few minutes, Sam’s face buried against Dean’s neck, Dean’s hands stroking Sam’s back. When they parted the whole world was different. Jessica couldn’t put her finger on it but she knew change when she saw it. Understanding came later.   
The shirt was Dean's. It didn’t take her long to figure that out. It was about his size, the Metallica logo matched his taste in music. It didn’t explain the purple star next to the tour date but Jessica was learning to live with secrets.


End file.
